


Tim's Tragic Tutorials

by EleanorC



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Baking, First Kiss, Fluff, JayTim Week 2020, M/M, Ninja lilies, Streaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanorC/pseuds/EleanorC
Summary: For a frighteningly long time, Tam just looks at him, making him squirm in his seat in a way very few people can. He half expects her to get up and leave like she did after the thing with her dad happened, but she just sits there.“Ninja,” she says eventually, making him flinch and look down at his pizza. Maybe he deserves the terror of actually eating the thing.“Yeah,” he says. “I really am sorry about that, Tam. I didn’t know what else to do.”-Tim has some things he needs to make up to Tam. It seemed like a good idea to ask Jason for help at first. A Twitch stream, a previously undiscovered talent for baking, and a fandom are the result.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 45
Kudos: 298
Collections: JayTimWeek





	Tim's Tragic Tutorials

**Author's Note:**

> So here’s my first, and so far only, contribution to spring 2020’s JayTim week, Day 1: Baker AU, as I’ve had no time to write at all lately.  
> There’s a bunch of people I need to thank for helping me with this, so bear with me.  
> First of all Salazarastark, for giving me the spark I needed in order to create this monster.  
> Shmoo92, for graciously lending me her lilies, helping out with writing a plausible Twitch chat exchange, and helping out thinking of faux twitch user names as well as letting me use hers in the fic.  
> Ang, Andrew, and plumstagram, who also helped with thinking up twitch usernames and/or letting me use theirs.  
> Last, but definitely not least, I’d like to thank Firefox and rhubarbpie for the betas!  
> Enjoy!

“I need your help,” Tim says when he finds Jason while he’s taking a break from patrol.

Honestly, he’s kinda impressed Tim managed to find him at all, but this is the Babybird, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. 

He doesn’t flinch, had heard him sneaking up on him from miles away. Though maybe sneaking isn’t the right word; if Jason heard him, he’s not trying. He’s looking down into an alley where a group of street kids tends to hang out. He doesn’t look away from where Chris is handing out the sandwiches Jason gave him to share with the others. Most people know better than to mess with this particular group, but it’s best to loom over them as a reminder that they’re under his protection every now and then. 

“You sure about that, Babybird?” Jason asks, allowing his skepticism to bleed through, “I’m pretty sure N is in town, so is Black Bat. You’ve got other options to choose from.”

Not that he _wants_ Tim to go running to them over him, but he’s so used to being second pick that he’s conditioned himself into this response. It’d be nice to be picked first for once.

Something about that statement must be funny to Tim, because when Jason sneaks a peak at him from the corner of his eye, his mouth twitches slightly before he composes himself. 

“Not for this I don’t,” he says, and then, like he can read Jason’s mind even with his helmet on, he adds, “and even if I did. I’m asking you.”

And the thing is, Jason’s had a couple years to get used to Tim’s way of thinking by now. Knows that Tim asking for help is rare, but when he does finally decide he’s out of his league, he doesn’t feel shame in utilizing his many contacts. So why does he sound so uncomfortable now? If Jason didn’t know any better, he’d say Tim sounds downright stressed.

He finally turns away from the scene below, fully facing Tim so that he knows he’s looking at him even with the hood on. “This a life threatening thing?”

“In a way,” Tim haggles, shifting from foot to foot now in a way that’s too damn cute for someone to pull off in full vigilante gear. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Babybird?” 

“It means part of my support structure is threatening to fall away, and if it does, my life will become infinitely more dangerous than it already is.” 

Problems with the Fox girl, then. It’s funny how Tim manages to come closest to Brucie’s womanizer status without even trying. He’s being dramatic though, and they both know it. 

Jason is silent, observing Tim for a long time. He doesn’t really want to fix Tim’s girl trouble for him. But he also knew from the first moment Tim opened his mouth that he’d do whatever he asked. Doesn’t mean he won’t make him squirm first, though. 

He stays silent long enough that Tim starts twitching, thanking his lucky stars for his hood before he says, “What do you need me to do?”

A grin breaks out across Tim’s face that should honestly make Jason more worried than it does.

“Well…”

-

Tim knows even before he enters his office that he’s in for a tongue-lashing. He hasn’t stepped foot in the building in nearly a week. An incredibly ill-timed kidnapping attempt/recruitment dinner with Ra’s, followed by an all-hands-on-deck magnitude Arkham breakout made sure of that. 

Both are legitimately valid reasons not to come in to work, but it does leave a rather large portion of his workload on Tam’s shoulders, and while she can handle it, she shouldn’t have to. Contrary to popular belief, Tim isn’t completely oblivious; he knows when he’s fucked up. He knows when someone is annoyed with him. When he’s pushed the boundaries just a little bit too far. 

Which is why he’s been promising himself to take some of the load off her a little bit. Stay in Gotham for a good few weeks, actually go to board meetings for a change. But then Ra’s happened, and Arkham happened, and he just _knows_ this was the last straw. 

And then, there’s that thing that happened last month, when some idiot had the _great_ idea to kidnap Tam and demand a ransom from Tim. Because apparently there are still people that believe they’re engaged. Which normally wouldn’t be too much of an issue, as Tim can handle a kidnapping attempt, and Tam knows that. The problem was that Tim had been in space at the time. With the Titans, and the Justice League, and just about every other reputable hero on the roster, leaving him with no other choice but to ask his personal contingency of ninja to go save her (He knew asking for Lilith's phone number would come in handy one day, but he didn’t quite predict it would be for something like this).

It’s been a month, and Tam hasn’t mentioned the ninja rescue, which can only mean she’s tallying all his transgressions to heap on him in one go. She knows he’ll at the very least appreciate the efficiency of it. 

To his utter surprise, Tam is perfectly amiable when he arrives in his office, quickly bringing him up to speed on what’s on his schedule for the day. He’s known her for too long to completely let his guard down, though, which is justified when he opens his personal kitchenette cabinets, only to find all his special blend coffee has been replaced with off brand decaf. 

By lunch, Tim is struggling to concentrate, and the soothing soundscape Tam keeps playing just outside his office keeps lulling him to sleep. When the lunch she orders him turns out to be _Hawaiian pizza_ , he decides they need to talk. 

“Hey, Tam?” he calls, as he sticks his head around the corner to see her sitting at her desk. “You got a minute?” 

She looks up at him from the hamburger she’s eating—and the fact she didn’t join him for lunch is another sure sign he’s in the danger zone with her—and hums. “Sure, Tim. Just give me a sec.” 

He’s glad to see she’s at least gathering up her food to take into his office now. It means the situation is still salvageable. Once they’re both seated, she looks at him expectantly—dragging the awkward silence out—making him start the conversation they both know they need to have. 

“Look,” Tim sighs, “we both know our usual shtick where I ask you how many times I need to say sorry, and you give me a realistic answer isn’t going to work this time—and don’t get me wrong I’m _really_ sorry—so I think we need to at least clear the air, and see where that leaves us.”

For a frighteningly long time, Tam just looks at him, making him squirm in his seat in a way very few people can. He half expects her to get up and leave like she did after that thing with her dad, but she just sits there.

“Ninja,” she says eventually, making him flinch and look down at his pizza. Maybe he deserves the terror of actually eating that thing. 

“Yeah,” he says, not looking up. “I really am sorry about that, Tam. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Tam sighs. “Look at me, Tim.” It takes some effort but he does. “Look. I understand you can’t be around 24/7 to guard me. I understand that you have other obligations and that you were literally half a galaxy away, but _ninja?_ Don’t get me wrong, Lilith is cool and all, but I had to stop them from killing the guy.”

She sighs and pushes her hair out of her face, looking away. 

“I keep wondering what my life has become since meeting you,” she says, “I keep looking at what my life has become, and the only answer I have as to how I got here is you.” She’s not saying anything new. Tim has known this for a long time. It’s been a while since she’s pointed it out, though. “And I can’t even really be mad at you about it. It’s not like you can help all the crazy things that happen to you, but you have to understand that I am not some sort of super woman, Tim. I have limits. I can only do so much, and if we want this nepotism tag-team of ours to work, something needs to change.” 

Tim grimaces. “I know I’ve be—”

Tam cuts him off. “No, you really don’t,” she says, her anger finally showing in her tone, and Tim has a spare thought she’s gotten really good at the poker face thing. “Sure, you read the reports, you make sure you keep up to date on what’s going on in the company, but you don’t _know_ what it’s like, working for you, Tim. Being a secretary to a CEO is a demanding enough job as is, but I have to prepare for just about any eventuality. Need to make sure I can take your place at the drop of a hat, literally sometimes. I took improv classes, just to get better at bullshitting my way through explaining away your absences. And I do that gladly. Because it helps you do the things you need to do to make the world a safer place. But the _last_ thing I need is to be lugged around by friggin’ ninja on top of all that!” 

She’s right, of course, he doesn’t know. And the worst part of it is that no one does. Tam’s situation is unique, and she can’t even talk to anyone about it. The only person who even comes close is probably Alfred, and maybe her dad.

He opens his mouth to apologize again, but Tam doesn’t give him the chance. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry, I know you are,” she says, “but like you said, just words aren’t going to fix it this time.” 

Tim nods, and looks down at the horror that claims to be a pizza in front of him. It’s grown cold by now, making it even worse. He tries to think of how to make things better, but he honestly doesn’t know what he can do. The pizza does give him an idea, though. It won’t make things right, but it might lift the mood a little. 

Slowly he lifts a piece of the pizza out of the box and holds it up between them, looking straight at Tam. 

“If I force myself to eat this,” he begins, “will that make you feel better?”

Tam snorts. “It sure as hell will be a start.” 

He grimaces as theatrically as he can before taking a bite, then the grimace turns real. 

“It will have to be the whole pizza, though.” 

It takes two tries to swallow before he can reply. “A quarter.”

“Half.”

“You’re cruel.”

Tam sends him a look. “Says the guy who left me to deal with the Paris meeting on my own, knowing full well I don’t speak French.”

Which, fair, but still. 

Tim pulls a face and takes another bite. 

“So,” he says after forcing the first piece of the pizza down. “Since we both agree this isn’t quite what you need me to do. Any ideas as to how I can make the sheer misfortune that is knowing me up to you?”

Tam falls silent, holding up her hand when he starts to prompt her further, seemingly deep in thought. He almost considers delaying eating further, since she doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to his punishment, but it’s probably best to just get it over with. 

He’s starting on the last piece by the time she raises her eyes to look at him again.

“I think part of the problem is that this friendship of ours will never be equal,” she says, and when he tries to deny that she cuts him off. “No, I know that’s not true on an intellectual level, but in practice, that’s what it is. Not only are you literally my boss, your skill set is insane, and only a very select group of people could ever hope to keep up.”

Tim does break into her monologue there. “You _do_ keep up, Tam. You’re one of the few who do.”

It makes her smile, at least. “Yes, and I am constantly going out of my comfort zone to make sure I do,” she says, “which, again, I am happy to do for you. But considering that your comfort zone is so much bigger than mine, that’s exactly what makes our friendship unbalanced.”

He sits back in his chair, thinking about what she’s saying. 

“So you want to even things out on a practical level?” he asks. 

Tam shakes her head. “No,” she says, “as I said, your skillset and comfort zone make that unlikely. I just need reassurance that we’re balanced on an emotional level. Which means you need to prove to me you are as willing to go through uncomfortable experiences for me as I am for you.” 

Once again she cuts him off before he can even start speaking. 

“I know that you are, Tim. But I know it here,” she says, pressing two fingers against her temple, before moving her hand to place it over her heart, “but I need to know it here as well.”

And Tim? Well he can’t really deny her that now, can he? 

“You got any ideas as to how I might do that.” 

Tam grins in a very ominous way. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” 

-

Jason severely regrets taking his helmet off as Tim finishes explaining why he needs help. Sure, they’ve relocated to a roof where they can talk in private, and drinking the coffee Tim bought them would be impossible with the hood on, but he feels vulnerable with his face exposed, and he’s sure Tim can read the hurt feeling he’s fighting. 

“So…” Jason forces himself to say, “asking me for help is your way of going out of your comfort zone? Because I gotta be honest, Babybird, if you’re more comfortable asking Ra’s’ cronies for help than me, it’ll be hard not to take offense.” 

He thought they were past that. Also, what the fuck? How did he never notice Tim has a personal contingency of ninja before. Jason looks around suspiciously, trying to see if they also follow him at night. He’s appalled to find not one, not two, but five ninja peeking out of the shadows. One of them gives a little wave, even. Jason finds himself waving back in his shock. 

Tim laughs, pulling Jason’s attention back. “And you would be right to, but no,” he says, and Jason hates how he instantly relaxes. “Although admittedly, I’m bad at asking the family for help, that’s not what this is about. I need help doing something I’m _really_ bad at. Or at least. I’m assuming I’ll be bad at it, never really tried.”

Jason snorts, “Being straightforward and honest?”

“Hey!” 

“What? You’re a little shit, and we both know it.” He grins. “In the best possible way, of course.”

Tim deadpans, and Jason once again becomes aware the only redemption he has for his soft spot for the little bird is how much he enjoys riling him up. “The only reason you don’t qualify for the moniker yourself anymore is because the lazarus pit boosted you about two feet.” 

“I wasn’t _that_ short.”

“I spent years looking at that case. Yes, you were.” Tim flinches visibly even as the words leave his mouth, and Jason can already see him turning to apologize when he bursts out laughing. 

God, he could have said that himself. 

Tim patiently waits as Jason laughs himself silly.

“Jesus,” he says, when he finally calms himself. “That was brutal. I’m so proud right now.”

“And you wonder why anyone would be uncomfortable asking you for help.”

This time, he’s pretty sure Tim’s doing it on purpose, and it works like a charm; he doubles over laughing all over again. 

Tim can’t quite hide his smirk behind his paper coffee cup as he takes a sip, but that’s fine with Jason. He likes seeing that smirk, after all. 

Jason doesn’t take quite as long to calm down the second time. “Quit stalling,” he says, “what do you need help with?”

Tim’s grin drops away, looking like he’s been caught in a scheme and surprised by it. He should know better by now. “I need you to help me bake a cake.”

Say what now? 

Jason feels his eyebrows climb towards his hairline. “You need me to what?”

“Help me bake a cake. Or more like teach me how to do it myself.”

“Why?”

“I just told you, comfort zone. This is definitely not in it.”

“Why me?” It’s a legitimate question, because they both know who the go-to person in the family is for that. 

“Because A banned me from the kitchen for anything other than making coffee.” Well, that explains a few things. 

“Jeez, Babybird,” Jason says after a low whistle. “Not even B is banned from the kitchen, how’d you manage that?”

“I tried to work a case while cooking.” Tim shrugs. “Forgot about it and destroyed his favorite skillet.” 

“Right. That would do it.” 

Tim hums and lets the silence sit for a while. Which is a good thing, because Jason needs to stew on this for a bit. On one hand, agreeing to do this will allow him to spend more time with Tim, which could lead to hilarious opportunities to mess with him. On the other, Jason knows how little time Tim spends in his kitchen, has never seen him do anything other than the most basic of things, and if Alfred has given up on him? It’s gotta be bad. 

“So,” he says, “baking lessons, huh?”

“Yep.”

“And knowing you, just the beginner course won’t do.” 

Tim grins, and it should be weird how well Jason knows him, but he can’t deny he kinda likes that. “Nope.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to invite you to destroy my kitchen next.” Because they both know Tim knows where Jason lives, even if they pretend otherwise.

“Nah, I’m inviting you to mine.” 

Jason sits a little straighter despite himself. Curse Tim for knowing Jason as well as he does him. Figures he’d use the way he’s been eyeing it every time he visits Tim against him.

“The one in your Coventry penthouse?” 

“Yep.”

“The one that has professional-kitchen-worthy equipment?”

“That’s the one.”

“The kitchen that has _never_ seen use? Which, by the way, is blasphemy.” Jason’s wearing a shit-eating grin now. He doesn’t care.

“Hey!” Tim protests. “I use it!”

“Making sandwiches and coffee doesn’t count, Babybird.”

Tim glares at him, though there doesn’t appear to be any heat to it. It’s not entirely true, and they both know it. Tim has to make sure to follow a certain diet to keep up his muscle mass, and that comes with eating a certain amount of proteins. 

Much as Tim would like, not even he can persist on Coffee, protein shakes and spite alone. Something Jason only knows because a drunk Tim lamented it once while scarfing a plate of pasta down at four a.m. that he claimed to have cooked himself earlier that evening.

“So,” Tim says, otherwise ignoring the dig, “you helping me or what?”

Of course, he’ll help him, but the thought of cooking in that Food-Network-worthy kitchen gives him an idea. A grin spreads on his face without his conscious permission, and if the way Tim suddenly looks like he wants to run is any indication away from him is any indication, he’s feeling appropriately cautious. 

“Sure I’ll help you out,” Jason says, “but I think we can do better than that.”

-

Two days later, when Tim finds Jason in his kitchen, setting up a camera which is hooked up to a laptop, he realises he’s made a big mistake. 

The fact that he appears to have recruited his house ninja into whatever he’s doing doesn’t help at all, though he’s mildly impressed at the professional looking set-up they are helping Jason construct.

Somehow he’d forgotten he only ever sees Jason in his Red Hood armor nowadays, and while the cargo pants tend to make his legs look great, it’s got nothing on what the jeans he’s wearing now do for his thighs. Or maybe it’s just that Tim is at least used to Jason in his tactical gear, because Jason in simple jeans and a t-shirt, with his hair all over the place is somehow causing a blush to creep up Tim’s face. 

Tim just stares for a second, or maybe a few seconds, because a small cough is the thing dragging his attention away from the way the cotton of Jason’s shirt stretches over his biceps as he works. 

Only then he notices Steph and Cass lounging on stools near the bar sporting identical grins that make him feel weary. He slowly lowers his work bag to the ground so he can take his coat and shoes off. 

“Why are they here?” he asks, gesturing towards the girls, and as an afterthought, also at the various ninja sneaking in and out of shadows carrying cables. 

“Hello to you too, Timbo,” Jason says, not looking away from where he’s still fiddling with a camera for some reason. “I needed a techie, and Steph’s the family instagram guru who apparently knows how to Twitch stream due to her prolonged exposure to you. Cass is here because I pulled Steph away from girl’s night so she insisted she be allowed to enjoy the show.”

Tim stares. 

“Twitch?” he asks, because he must have heard that wrong, surely. 

Jason finally finishes setting up the camera, causing Steph to lean over and pull the laptop towards her. She starts typing away as Jason answers. 

“Yep. We’re going to stream your lesson so all of Gotham can see what a disaster you are.” 

“ _What?_ ” Tim sputters, “that wasn’t part of the deal!”

Jason smirks, fiddling with a microphone now. “You already agreed to this, Tim.” 

He wants to deny that, but then remembers sorta zoning out as Jason was talking about improving on his idea. Jason’s smirk tends to do that to him. Instead, he stays silent, shooting Steph a silent plea for help that he knows will go unanswered. 

“You wanted my help, Timbo, it’s like this or not at all.”

Steph hops off her barstool and plucks a second mic off the bar before moving over to Tim. “Just give in, Timmy,” she says as she grabs his wrist and starts pulling him to his bedroom, “it’s three against one. Now come on, you can’t possibly do this in a thousand dollar shirt”

She’s right, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He heaves a put upon sigh before allowing her to pull him away from the kitchen. “It’s not a thousand dollars,” he mumbles, before his eyes fall on the laptop screen while passing it. 

“Is that my twitter account?” he asks, doesn’t shriek, nope. No way. Not Tim. And if he did, it would be warranted. His twitter account is better protected than the batcave, no one should be able to get in there. Not after The Thanksgiving Incident Of 2019. And yet, the laptop is clearly displaying his twitter homepage, and a large promotion tweet for the twitch stream he’s apparently participating in that’s gathering likes and reposts as they speak. “How the hell did you—”

The screen of his laptop flashes to green, showing a familiar mask for just a second before returning to his twitter account. Of course Jason would bring out the big guns.

Tim stumbles over words he can’t find in his desire to protest, and ends up making bewildered eye-contact with one of the ninja, who is dangling from the ceiling, attaching a light to some sort of construction. The ninja just gives him a “What-can-you-do?” shrug, or maybe it’s the “Don’t-ask-me-I-don’t-know-how-I-got-here-either” shrug, it’s hard to tell them apart upside down. 

“Hush, ex wonder,” Steph sing-songs as she pulls him through the door to his bedroom. “Just let it happen.” 

The moment the door closes behind him, Steph is on his case. 

“How do you get yourself into these things, Tim?” she asks, letting go of his wrist to start digging through his closet. “It’s a good thing he’s as bad at saying no to you as you are to him.”

Say what now? 

Steph must feel his incredulous look somehow. “Stop looking at me like that,” she says, “you really think he would have gone through all this trouble if it had been me asking? Or Dick?”

She turns back to him with one of his more comfortable shirts that still matches his “Timothy Drake-Wayne” persona, and a pair of jeans. “No. He wouldn’t have, and we both know it. Now put this on and let me do your hair.”

That… can’t be right. 

Right?

Tim catches the clothes she throws at him, dumping them on the bed while starting to unbutton his work shirt. When he notices the jeans she gave him are the pair she affectionately calls his ‘third date jeans’, he raises an eyebrow in her direction. 

“What?” she says, “If Thighs out there is gonna flaunt his goods like that, I’ll drop dead before I let you go out without looking your very best. It’s what ex-girlfriends-slash-besties-slash-wing-women are for.”

-

When Jason agreed to help Tim with his “imminent social life collapse” situation, he thought it would be a good moment to mess with the kid (he _does_ know how to say no to him. Shut up, Babs). 

He was dead wrong. Well… he was also right, but he didn’t take into account that Tim grew up _pretty_ , and without the green haze of the Pit madness to distract him from that fact, Jason is left completely out of his element. 

It also doesn’t help that Blondie clearly dressed him up to impress, and if the smug look she sends his way as he fights his slack jaw back into position is any indication, she knows damn well what she did. 

His only saving grace is that Tim isn’t paying attention to him, as he’s busy clipping the mic to his shirt, looking somewhat less like he’s about to bolt than he was before. 

Which is good, because Jason can’t have him bailing on him now. And bad, because he looks infinitely better when he feels comfortable in his own skin. 

His phone dings with a five minute warning, and Stephany comes over to take the laptop and Cass over to the living room, where they won’t be in the way of Tim and Jason. At the same time, one of the multitude of ninja jumping out of the woodwork at random intervals takes position behind the camera. 

Jason has to give Ra’s credit, he trains his ninja to be versatile. 

“Over here, Timbo,” Jason beckons, “gonna start soon.”

Tim is clearly still reluctant as he shuffles over, but he comes nonetheless. “Anything I should know before we start?” he asks.

Jason can’t help but grin at his tone. “Nah,” he says, “just follow my instructions as we go. It’s better if you don’t know what to expect to be honest.”

The next five minutes, he double checks if he has everything he needs, checks if Tim’s mic is working, and otherwise enjoys giving Tim absolutely none of the information he’s asking for. When Cass comes back into the kitchen with a tablet where a timer is running down from thirty seconds, he makes Tim stand just off camera and takes his own place in what he knows will be the middle of the screen. 

A slight moment of tension builds in him; he hasn’t been officially alive that long, and he’s been avoiding the media so far. He has no idea how people will react to him after so long, but he shrugs it off. This isn’t about him. This is about Tim, and his quest to appease his secretary, and having some goddamned fun. Besides, it’s not like people will pay a lot of attention to him when there’s Timothy Wayne-Drake to look at anyway. 

Just before the timer reaches zero, Jason conjures a smile and focuses on the camera. 

“Hello, followers of Tim! As you may notice, I am not him, but don’t worry, he’ll be joining me shortly,” he says, feeling only slightly awkward talking to a camera. “As most of you, including Tim, have no idea what we’re going to be doing during this stream, I’ll be giving a short explanation, and then we’ll get on our way.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see Tim pinching the bridge of his nose, probably wondering what he did to deserve this. It makes Jason’s smile stretch a little wider. 

“Basically, it’s what it says on the tin; Tim’s Tragic Tutorials.” Tim groans, probably loud enough to be picked up by the mic, and Jason allows himself to shift his eyeline over to him. “Don’t complain Timbo, I could have done _way_ worse.” 

Tim glares at him, but there’s no heat to it, so he knows he hasn’t crossed any hard lines. “Anyway, before Tim so rudely interrupted me, I was gonna say that Tim has some life skills he missed learning because of his tragically rich upbringing—honestly, we could be doing this with any number of the Wayne family, but we’re doing it with Tim—so I have been tasked with correcting this oversight in his upbringing.” He pauses. “Wait, no. That makes it sound like Alfred did something wrong, Alfred, you did nothing wrong, if you end up watching this, I totally understand and support your decision to ban certain members of this dysfunctional family from your kitchen.”

Tim snickers at that, prompting Jason to send a glare his way again.

"Either way. Tim needs to learn how to bake, because of reasons that will not be disclosed here, so don't even bother asking," he says, not turning back to the camera. "Suffice it to say the goal is to have Tim bake a birthday cake all on his own for an undisclosed birthday in two months, which means we have eight weeks of Tim's Tragic Tutorials to look forward to!"

It's only when Tim flinches that Jason allows himself to smirk and turn back to the camera.

"So how this will work is that Timmy over here—" Jason beckons Tim, who after another grimace shuffles into the range of the camera, "—is going to try his hands on a different recipe every week, with nothing but written instructions."

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Tim whip his head in his direction in shock, and he allows a shit eating grin to take over his face.

"This week, I have selected the recipe," he continues before Tim can object to the change in plans, "however, for the coming weeks we will allow whatever audience we have to give suggestions, and select one from the submissions. In order to submit, make sure to send a tweet at the brand new twitter account **@Tim'sTragicTutorials** , with a properly described and written out recipe, and our social media liaison, Steph, will make sure to include it in the hat."

He can still feel Tim glaring at him, but it just makes him smile wider. "Now, a couple disclaimers before we start," he says, "first, I'd like to point out that this is Tim's kitchen, in _Tim’s_ house, and I have not moved any of his appliances around for this show. If he can't find something, it's because he never uses this kitchen, which, shame on you Timmy."

"Hey!"

Jason ignores him. "Secondly, I have started off real easy, because I promised to teach him and did this instead, so don't say I'm making it too easy, you'll see why I started here."

Tim has crossed his arms, and Jason is sure he'd feel the need to run and hide if he looked his way right now. "Thirdly, Miss Fox, I know you’re watching. I hope we're living up to your expectations," he says, "and lastly, I'm here in an supportive capacity only, I'll only vocally support Tim unless he threatens to burn his own house down."

"One time!" Tim grits out lowly, but not low enough for the mics not to pick up on. "You forget about dinner one time."

Jason wraps an arm around Tim without looking at him, "And yet, even Alfred agreed this was a good idea."

It seems Tim is finally accepting his fate, though, as he turns to the camera, and says. "I'd like to go on record and say I didn't agree to any of this, and it's cruel and unusual punishment."

Jason snorts, "The only reason it's cruel and unusual is because most people aren't as much of a disaster in the kitchen as you."

Tim redirects his glare from the camera to Jason again. "You've never seen me in a kitchen, Jay, how would you know?"

"I've seen footage."

Tim's jaw literally drops at that, making Jason snicker as he turns to grab an apron, which he throws at him.

"Why don't you close your mouth and put this on," he says, "and be thankful Steph talked me out of something much more embarrassing."

This apron is just a plain dark gray one, which matches pretty well with the light blue of Tim's shirt.

He grumbles a bit more as he puts the apron on, but Jason can see his heart isn't really in it. He pulls a printed page of instructions out for Tim to follow and holds it out for him. Tim looks down at it, before raising his eyebrows. "This doesn't even say what I'm making."

"Congratulations," Jason says, "you've proven you can read."

"How am I supposed to know what I'm making?"

"That's the fun part." Tim's expression says exactly what he thinks of that statement. "You won't know, and in this box here," Jason taps a nondescript tin that has been sitting on the counter, "is my version that I baked earlier today in this very kitchen, and we'll compare how well you did."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

Tim heaves a large sigh before snatching the page of instructions from Jason's hands. "Let's see what we're doing, then."

His eyes scan the page, eyebrows rising with each line, which, amusing, but not quite the panic Jason was expecting. After a minute, Tim looks back at Jason and says, completely seriously, "Why does this look like a chemistry experiment?"

Jason huffs a laugh. "Because baking is a pretty exact art?"

Tim hums and looks back at the page, before putting it down. "I can do this."

Jason deflates a bit, this might not turn out quite as he meant for it to.

-

Tim cannot do this. 

The instructions are clear enough, and at first he thought it should have been straightforward enough to bake whatever it is he's baking. There's only three ingredients, after all.

Step one was turning on the oven, but if Tim’s learned anything from his chemistry classes, it's that you make sure you have everything you need first. So he gets out the butter from the fridge and the sugar from his coffee corner, only to notice Jason smirking from where he's observing in the corner. Not the right kind of sugar, then.

What the hell is the difference between powdered and normal sugar in the first place?

It doesn't help when Jason starts talking to him. "So, Timmy, why don't you explain to the people at home what you're doing?"

"We've gone over this, I have no clue, or did you already forget the rules you yourself made? Why don't you tell them?"

"Not the end goal." Tim really wants to wipe that smirk from Jason's face. "The steps."

Right.

"I figured I'd get everything I need out first, so that I don't have to look for it while I'm actually following the instructions."

Jason has the gall to hum approvingly. "I knew they didn't say you're clever for nothing, Timmy."

"Oh, shut up." Tim says as he pulls open different cabinets in his kitchen. Now if only he knew how Alfred organised his stuff. One of these has to act as his pantry, right?

"Looking for something?" Jason really is having too much fun with this, so Tim sends another withering glare his way.

"No." He's being obstinate, and he knows it.

"Having trouble locating the pantry in your own home, Timbo?" Jason turns to the camera. "You see why I felt the need to point out this is his own kitchen?"

"Screw you."

"You wish." It takes Tim a second to go back and register what insult he threw at Jason before he quickly turns to hide his flush in the pantry he finally located.

From the shit eating grin Jason is throwing him, it's no use hoping he didn't see it.

Luckily, the pantry yields him not only a bag labeled powdered sugar, but flour as well. After a couple more minutes of searching, he also manages to locate his electric mixer and a baking tray that Jason hums approvingly at again.

He knows where to find plastic wrap (he knows how to keep leftovers fresh, thank you very much), and notices a new box next to it, which apparently contains parchment paper, so that's cool.

After a few more minutes of searching, Tim gives up on finding a sifter, though. "So, any chance you can tell me where to find a sifter, as you seem to be the expert on finding things here?" May as well play into the cluelessness a bit.

"Maybe."

And the family calls Tim a shit...

"Will you tell me?"

"If you make it worth my while."

Tim raises a single eyebrow at him, but doesn't say anything. It has the desired effect of making Jason scramble to comply.

"All right, all right. It's in the cabinet above the fridge," he says hurriedly, "Jeez, Tim, that's one accurate copy of the Pennyworth Eyebrow of Horrible Consequences."

Tim huffs, turning a pensive look up at the cabinet Jason pointed at. "Alfred may not have succeeded in teaching me to cook, but that doesn't mean I didn't pick some other stuff from him."

That makes Jason chuckle. "Fair enough." Then he has to ruin Tim's good mood by leveling a smirk at him and asking, "Want me to get it from the high place for you, short-stuff?"

He's already going for the cabinet, giving Tim the perfect opening to take two steps run-up to push off the counter and land one knee on Jason's shoulder. Before Jason has a chance to react to it, Tim has opened the cabinet and gotten the sifter out (it's the only thing in there, hinting on Jason putting it here on purpose), and jumped off. It's only at the last second that Tim remembers the Twitch stream and he just manages to course correct from a backwards somersault to simply jumping off. If he digs his knee a little more than necessary as he pushes off, that's his business.

Jason looks absolutely flabbergasted as Tim lands. He simply raises an eyebrow at him, conveying his smugness as Jason recovers. "What?" he asks, "all that skateboarding as a teenager involved a lot of climbing, you know."

Jason finally recovers and scoffs. "This is not what most people mean when they say they want to climb me like a tree."

Tim snorts, tries to keep more laughter in, before giving in and doubling over in mirth.

"Now there's an image." He snickers some more, wiping moisture from the corners of his eyes. "I'm sure Twitter will tell me I'm doing it wrong."

"Feel free to keep trying after getting that feedback." Jason wiggles his eyebrows at him.

"You wish," Tim copies Jason's line from before, and he's satisfied to see that Jason's cheeks go red when he looks away.

Finally having collected all his supplies, Tim looks down and realizes this won't have a lot of entertainment value if he doesn't lay it on a bit thick that he doesn't know how to do this. He turns to the oven with confidence, but then makes a bit of a show of frowning at the buttons, his hand poised over them. He tilts his head as he turns to Jason and in his most innocent voice, asks, "How do I turn this thing on?"

He knows. Jason knows that he knows that much at least. They've heated up deep freeze pizza's here on movie nights, after all. So Jason knows.

But if the amused and slightly relieved glance Jason sends him is any indication, he's onto him, and approves.

-

Jason would like to go on record and reiterate that Timothy Jackson Wayne-Drake is a little shit. 

Also a troll.

And surprisingly adept at making shortbread cookies, to the point Jason would be wondering if he lied about not knowing how to bake if he hadn't gone to get the tray out of the oven without gloves, nearly burning his hands.

The entire stream ended up taking ninety minutes from the start of the stream to closing down. And from the moment Tim really started working, he asked every inane question he could have, and while from some Jason _knows_ Tim already knew the answer, some he's not so sure. The result is that Jason doesn't know which questions were genuine and which were trolling, so he didn't even get blackmail out of this evening.

Maybe he started off too easy...

The resulting cookies are actually pretty good, maybe even a bit neater than Jason's, which annoys him beyond belief; he'll have to pay a bit more attention next time.

Another thing that surprised Jason is how easy it is to banter with Tim, even with a camera aimed at them. Tim gives as good as he gets, and Jason finds himself looking forward to next week more than he expected to.

Currently, Jason sits on the counter after the clean-up, munching on one of his cookies (Tim's cookies are reserved for Tam), with a cup of tea. The laptop is next to him, angled so he can read along with Tim, who's sitting on a bar stool with a coffee, munching on a cookie as well as he reads the veritable flood of messages that popped in the chat while they were filming.

Steph is standing behind Tim, leaning her lower arms on his shoulders as she points out some of the ones that stood out to her as she was modding the chat. Cass is sitting on the counter on the other side of Tim, munching on cookies as well, seemingly having no interest in the chat, and Jason has a stray thought, wondering what her level of literacy is at this point. 

The ninja also took some cookies before disappearing into the shadows. Tim said that’s normal and not to worry about it too much.

From first impressions, it seems like Tim's Tragic Tutorials is received pretty well; most people comment on how well Tim and ‘his friend’ seem to get along. "I was surprised that they don't recognize you, Jay," Steph says, "somehow a lot of people seem to focus on that part."

He shrugs. "I've only been officially alive for a couple months, and we kept it kinda under wraps, so I'm not that surprised."

Tim hums and sips his coffee. "It doesn't help that he looks quite different from when he was a teenager."

Steph narrows her eyes and gives Jason a slow once over. "If this is any indication," she gestures vaguely at the chat Tim is scrolling through, "people are gonna make a big fuss over you now."

Jason scoffs. "Nah," he says, "I'm just the guy making snarky comments at Gotham's most eligible gold digging target under twenty-five. Why would they wanna know about me?"

Tim shoots Jason the most unimpressed look of the evening so far. "You clearly lost your touch with Gotham's gossiping climate if you really believe that."

Steph is nodding along empathically. "Look at Tam," she says, "she told _one person_ she was engaged to Tim as a joke, and four years later, she's still getting kidnapped over it."

Say, what now? How did Jason not know about this?

"To be fair," Tim pipes in, "the one person she told was Vicky Vale, that sorta guarantees everyone will know."

Jason scoffs, "Now there's a truth of the century."

That gets him the attention of everyone in the room. 

“Tell,” is Cass’ one word prompt, and Jason has learned the hard way not to refuse her anything. 

“I told her I was ginger as a joke once,” he says, “the urban legend that Bruce made me color my hair black to match him and Dick persisted all the way to my death.”

Tim nearly chokes on his coffee. “That’s where that came from?!” 

Jason shrugs. “Either way, that was when I was known as the newest Wayne project. I’m sure it’ll blow over before we know it.”

-

It doesn’t blow over. 

Tim already knew that, of course, but the first confirmation he gets that he’s right is when he’s walking into his office the next day and Tam’s face betrays she’s already _done_ with the day. 

“No, Miss Vale,” she says into the phone, “I cannot, and will not, schedule an appointment for you today. Nor will I provide you with a statement on what my opinion is of his private life. It’s called private for a reason.”

Tim quietly bypasses her, returning a few minutes later with a large cappuccino just the way she likes it. 

He places it on her desk just as she hangs up with what sounds to be another journalist. The phone starts ringing again right away, but Tim leans over and presses the busy button. Tam sends him a grateful smile after glancing at the coffee before zeroing in on the tin in his hands. 

“Is that what I think it is?” she asks, making grabby hands at him. 

Tim smiles and surrenders the tin over to her. “Don’t expect too much yet, I’m learning.”

Tam’s ignoring him, though, and is already pulling the lid off the tin and grabbing a cookie. It’s a well hidden secret that she has a major sweet tooth. But only when she’s stressed. 

“Don’t underestimate the power of shortbread, Tim,” she says, before biting in and humming. Tim feels strangely similar to how he feels when waiting for Bruce’s feedback on a mission report while she’s considering her verdict. He doesn’t quite realise he’s standing at attention until she looks him in the eye, and says, “Not bad, Drake.”

Tim relaxes. “Glad you like them, Tam.” 

“I’m not sure if spending a couple hours a week with a hottie like that is really going out of your comfort zone, though.” He grimaces at her. Why won’t anyone let him have his crush in peace? It would be so much easier to ignore if they did. 

Tam laughs and lifts a second cookie from the tin. “Although…” The smirk on her face always makes Tim feel on guard. “If your very obvious and very awkward flirting will make people finally forget about the engagement thing…” 

Tim shuts his eyes and wonders what he ever did to deserve this. Then he remembers the ninja in the shadowy corner behind him in Tam’s office. Right. Ninja. “Tam…” 

“What?” she asks, “you do realise the number one question they’re all asking me is ‘Who is Jay?’, right?” 

Tim groans and drops into the chair opposite her. “Why is that what they’re all focusing on?”

The answer is immediate and decisive. “Because he’s hot. And you’re hot. And there has never been any public indication that you’re anywhere on LGBT spectrum before.” 

He hopes the glare he sends her is as withering as he wants it to be. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Tim. I’m the one dealing with all the phone calls.”

She’s got him there. He runs a hand through his hair and looks out the window at the rare sunny day. “This is so not what I intended when I asked him to help me,” he says. 

Tam grins and pops another cookie in her mouth. “Yeah, well. As long as you keep feeding me these treats and providing me with high quality entertainment, you’re forgiven.” 

Tim huffs a laugh. “End goal achieved, I guess.”

“That birthday cake had better be amazing, though.”

“You got it.”

-

It doesn’t blow over. 

On one hand, it’s giving the stream a lot of attention in the media which—while Jason readily admitted to Tim that wasn’t what he was going after—is opening some doors he hadn’t even been aware existed. 

Barely a month, and three episodes of Tim’s Tragic Tutorials later, they are starting a weekly fundraiser for the local soup kitchens, and supporting local nutrition classes teaching young adults from poorer neighborhoods how to create a balanced and interesting diet on a low budget. It was Jason’s idea, but Tim jumped on it as soon as he suggested it. 

On the other hand, the biggest question in not only the Gotham tabloids, but also the newspapers, has been; “Who is Jay? Is Tim Drake coming out of the closet?” 

Which is a problem for so many reasons Jason doesn’t even know where to start. 

Roy and Kory calling him at three in the morning to laugh their asses off at him, seems as good a place as any.

Though Dick’s incessant texts, complaining he wasn’t invited to sibling bonding time is a good contender. 

As is the way Bruce came to judgmentally stare at him in his kitchen the next day. In full Batman gear.

Or even the vaguely threatening letter that was handed to him by a ninja, which he _thinks_ may be Ra’s’ personal form of shovel talk. He’d ask Talia about it if he didn’t think she’d take it as another reason to convince Damian to try and kill Tim again. 

Point is, the fifth episode is airing today, and he and Tim need to figure out some way to address this issue because if they don’t, WE’s PR department will get involved. 

And no one wants that. 

Besides, Jason is having much more fun with these weekly lessons than he thought he would. He’s always enjoyed baking, and while he vehemently denied it to Roy and Kory, he likes having an excuse to spend more time with Tim. He’s constantly counting his lucky stars that it turns out Tim has a talent for it, and seems to enjoy it as well. He never could have predicted they’d find something so mundane and enjoyable as common ground. 

Somehow, the whole situation has boiled over into a family meeting in the cave, with everyone in attendance. 

“We could always tell the truth,” Dick is saying, causing Jason to scoff next to him. 

“What?” he asks, “that I died and came back from the dead for unknown reasons, got dumped in a magical pit of literal madness, went on a killing spree, and then got better through the power of _family_.” He knows the way he spreads his hands dramatically over the word family will annoy several people in the room. It’s why he does it. 

For some reason, it makes Tim look at him with something resembling fondness, though. 

Dick roles his eyes. “Okay, so maybe not the whole truth,” he says, “but what’s to stop us from finding some way of putting this that at least allows us to reintroduce you as Jason Todd? That’s what you are officially alive as, right?”

“That may be true,” Babs weighs in, “but it’ll require all of us to be very careful about telling the same story. And it doesn’t change the fact that Jason will be much more in the spotlight than he wants to be.”

Jason shrugs. “It’s not so bad so far. But that could be because they don’t actually know who I am yet.” 

And it’s not. He hasn’t been recognized in the street, and while his twitter and twitch account are absolutely flooded with messages, he can just ignore most of that. 

“Speak for yourself,” Tim scoffs, “Vicky Vale alone has tried to ambush me eight times. Tam had to put an intern on phone duty because we couldn’t get anything done.”

Steph seems ready to make some sort of retort, but Bruce cuts her off. 

“The alternative is creating a thorough, airtight identity for Jason,” he says, and as usual he sounds constipated when personal issues are involved. Jason just wishes he knew whether he sounds like that because he’d like Jason to properly be part of the family again or because he doesn’t. “I’m afraid even Oracle would have trouble doing that in three hours.”

Babs looks like she wants to argue that notion on principle, but ends up sighing and nodding. “I would need at least three days for that, which would require Tim and Bruce to hold off the WE PR team for that long.”

Tim grimaces. “I can if I absolutely have to, but they at least will want some sort of explanation.” 

And the thing is, Jason can see the bruises under Tim’s eyes. He’s getting even less sleep than usual. He can see how tense this situation is making him, and that was never the goal of this venture. 

So Jason steels himself and decides what to do. 

-

“Are you sure about this, Jay?” Tim can’t stop himself from asking one more time before the stream starts. 

They’ve gone over the plan with the family five times, then two more when they got to Tim’s penthouse. He’s still not sure about making Jay do this, but in the end, it’s his decision. 

Jason looks up from where he’s going over the recipe for today one more time, and smiles. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

“It’ll cause a media storm,” Tim warns, just like he did the last five times they had this conversation. 

“I’m aware.”

“Especially Vale, she won’t rest until she’s got her well manicured claws on you.” 

Jason snorts. “I know, Tim,” he says, “I’ve been through this before, I doubt it’s gotten any easier with all the social media nowadays.”

Tim tries to suppress the urge to grit his teeth.

The keyword being ‘tries’. 

“Then why are you doing it?”

Jason turns over the sheet with the recipe, and fully turns to him now. “Because otherwise it’ll be you dealing with everything.”

That hurts. “What?” Tim asks, trying and failing to sound unaffected. “Because you’re afraid I’ll fuck it up?”

Jason’s eyes on him don’t waver, and there’s a softness to them he’s not familiar with. “Because you shouldn’t have to.”

By the time Tim’s face has gone back to a normal temperature, they are counting down to start filming. 

“Good evening everyone!” Jason says when the timer has ended, “and welcome to the fifth episode of Tim’s Tragic Tutorials, which, maybe we should change the name, because it’s turning out not that tragic at all.” 

Tim grins. “Damn right.”

Jason doesn’t grace that with a verbal response but he does lean an elbow on his shoulder. 

“Today I’ve got something fun for Tim to try, a little more difficult than the last couple of weeks, but if it turns out alright, it should be pretty neat.” 

Jason still refuses to tell Tim what he’s baking in advance. Claims he’d cheat if he could. Which is probably true, but still. 

“As before, the recipe will be posted online on our twitter account after the stream is finished, so feel free to try it out, make variations, and send us pictures of the results, we’re really enjoying them a lot.” 

Tim grins as he jumps in. “Before we start, though, we have a couple of announcements that we’d like to go over,” he says, “as last week, we are opening donations again today. This week all proceeds will go to Lizzy’s Kitchen, which is a great initiative down in East End which serves as a cooking and baking school for kids of underprivileged households and supplies local soup kitchens as well.” 

“If you want to donate, there’s a shiny donate button in the top right corner of the stream which will send you to the website where you can donate whatever you can miss,” Jason takes over. “Lizzy does great work, and both her team and ours will greatly appreciate all donations.” 

Tim lets his face settle into something stern, then. 

“Our next announcement has been made necessary due to some social media and press attention we didn’t expect when we decided to start this stream,” he says, “originally, we decided not to address it here, because it’s supposed to be a fun thing we do, and while I can’t help the fact than I’m high profile, that doesn’t mean my friends need to be pulled in with me.”

He takes a deep breath and can feel Jason’s eyes on him. “However, it’s now gotten to a point where the media attention to Jay is becoming disruptive not only to our lives, but also to others around us.” Even Ives has been getting phone calls the last couple of days. “Therefore, we have decided to make a single statement regarding Jay’s full name, and we will be answering select questions from the chat during a break Jason tells me will be necessary for the baking process tonight. These questions will be handpicked by Steph, and we will try to answer them as completely and truthfully as we feel comfortable with.”

“This first opportunity for questions is meant for the stream followers,” Jay continues, “not for the press. There will be a press conference in three days where the press will get a chance to collect official statements from several people involved, so please don’t interfere with what should be between our viewers and us.”

They both let the silence hang for long enough to let that sink in. Tim can feel just how tense Jason is next to him, but Jason does power on, regardless. 

“My name is Jason Peter Todd,” he says, “If that doesn’t ring a bell, Google will tell you all about how I died in a terrorist attack in Ethiopia over five years ago.” 

“There is, of course, more to that story,” Tim adds, “but it’s a long one, and for now, that’s all you’re getting. Suffice it to say he’s alive now, and it took him a while to come home.” 

Jason scoffs. “Really, Timmy,” he says, “we _just_ promised to answer questions later, way to confuse people.”

“Says the guy that opened with ‘just so you know, Google says I’m dead’.”

“There’s no gentle way to say that, though.”

“Fair, you’re usually way more crude about it. I should be proud.”

“You don’t look very proud, Timmy.” Jason is grinning, and the tension has left his shoulders. The worst part is over, now they can forget about it until they get to the break. 

“Sure, I do. This is my proud face,” Tim dead pans, “can’t you tell?”

“Right, right. My bad,” Jason answers without missing a beat. “That’s obviously a proud face, I should have been able to tell. It’s all in the blankness.”

Tim feels one corner of his mouth lift in a smile despite himself. 

“Obviously.”

“Well,” Jason says, turning back to the camera. “Let’s see if he can maintain that pride for today’s tutorial, shall we?” 

With a flourish, he picks up the sheet with the recipe, and hands it over to Tim. 

Over the last few weeks, Jason has been sure to up the challenge, and this week is no exception. For a change, though. Tim knows what he’s making fairly quickly. 

“Cupcakes?” he asks, throwing a glance at Jason from the corner of his eyes.

“Yup.”

He scans the ingredients, trying not to be too daunted by the amount of things he needs, before his eyes settle on two things in particular. 

“Matcha and white chocolate? Tam will love that.” 

“If you don’t fuck it up.” At least Tim’s building up a resistance to Jason’s shit eating grin. Or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself. 

By now, Tim knows where most of the stuff in his kitchen is, and they banter back and forth as he goes around collecting everything he needs. 

He likes this. Likes the precision of it, and the productivity. Making something instead of breaking it. Having Jason there to help out when he gets lost and to just generally snark at only makes it better. 

In a way, Tim’s not even surprised he completely forgets about the bomb they just dropped until the cupcakes are on the cooling rack, and Steph steps in with her tablet and a resigned expression.

-

Answering the questions during the stream is brutal, but Jason powers through it, knowing the press conference will be worse. 

Slowly, they work through the questions asked by the chat, and with Tim fielding some of the questions, and some light hearted ribbing, it’s not so bad. 

In the end, Steph stays in the room, even as Tim starts piping the buttercream onto the cupcakes. 

Or more like, Jason starts showing Tim how to do it, because even he’ll admit that takes some practice to get right. 

“Sooo,” Steph says, still scrolling through the chat in search of a good question to ask. “ **poems_foryour_robin** would like to know; Why aren’t you called Wayne anymore? Is that a technical issue or a choice?”

He steps back to let Tim do the next one on his own. “I don’t think it’s much of a secret that I didn’t do well with the media attention when I was adopted by Bruce,” he says, turning towards Steph. “And I was aware from the beginning that coming back to life would only complicate things further. That’s why it took me a while to even start looking into having myself declared alive. And while we never made it a secret, Bruce and I decided that redacting the Wayne from my name would make it easier for me to stay away from the press.” 

Tim, the little shit, snorts as he finishes piping a perfect swirl on one of the cupcakes. “And in the end, you yourself fucked it up in an effort to troll me.” 

“Excuse you, I was trying to help you,” Jason counters, “like _you_ asked me to.”

Tim turns to send a very unimpressed look his way. “I asked you to teach me how to bake,” he says, “we could have done that without all this.” He gestures around at the camera set up. 

“Well, yeah. But you’re enjoying it, right?” 

“I didn’t say I don’t,” Tim says, “doesn’t change the fact that you’ve called this upon yourself, though.” 

“I guess…” Tim nods and goes back to piping, and Jason leans over his shoulder to see how he’s doing. 

“I feel like I should also point out that Bruce and I don’t need to share names to know we’re father and son,” he adds after a while, “Dick never took his name either. I think _you’re_ the only one that uses it, and that only in professional settings.” 

Tim pauses. “That’s true. It’s in my passport, but honestly, Timothy Jackson Wayne-Drake is just a hassle to say.” 

Steph snorts. “You’re not above using it when you’re trying to make a point, though,” she says. 

“Oh?” Jason says, “this sounds interesting. How come I haven’t heard this before?”

Tim grimaces. “It’s not something I’m proud of,” he says, “but sometimes, and especially when I first started as CEO for WE, people have the habit of looking down on me.” 

“That’s not really that hard with how pocket-sized you are.”

That earns him an elbow, but it lacks force, and Jason wonders whether Tim’s holding back because of the camera’s or because he’s not actually angry. 

“I’m _not_ pocket-sized. You’re a giant,” Tim says, “seriously, I think you’re taller than Bruce now.”

“Not sure about that,” Steph says, “but he’s heavier, for sure.” 

“I’m sorta surprised no one’s asked about his workout routine, to be honest.”

“Oh, they did that the first day.”

Tim and Steph are wearing identical cheshire grins now, and Jason knew they were dangerous together but he somehow hadn’t seen this coming. 

“Oh? What did you tell them?”

“That he doesn’t skip leg day.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jason says, reaching out and grabbing the buttercream spatula and brandishing it. “Next person to say something about my physique gets to wash white chocolate buttercream out of their hair.” 

Steph holds out both her hands in mocking silence, but Tim simply continues piping. “You put that in my hair, I’ll tell Dick the real reason you didn’t show up for movie night.”

Jason gasps and steps back, “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

-

Jason didn’t end up trying him, which is good, because Tim had been going crazy with Jason continuously in his personal space like that. 

Tam is happy when he hands her the cupcakes, which turned out great, and the PR team is off his back. The press conference is tomorrow, and Tim has been going over potential questions with Tam, Steph, Jason and Roy, who apparently came to Gotham as moral support for Jay. Kory would have been here too, but she had an ‘alien thing’ to attend.

It wasn’t until this morning that Tim realised he and Jason made a mistake, and now he’s staring at the results on his tablet. 

On the screen is a picture of Tim leaning over the counter, a look of concentration on his face as he’s piping buttercream while Jason is watching his progress over his shoulder. It’s a twitter post with the caption; _Okay, so Jay is Bruce Wayne’s somehow-revived son, sure._ _But are they together though?_

They’d been so worried about Jason’s identity making a big splash they forgot to deny the claims that they’re in a relationship. 

“Jezus,” Jason says next to him, “I tell them a bullshit story of coming back to life with amnesia, and they focus on _that_?”

Roy snorts from the other side of the couch. “It’s sort of ironic that I’m the one saying this but, dude, it’s Gotham.”

“That just means you’re learning,” Steph tells him. 

Jason grunts some sort of annoyed response and Tim shakes himself out of it and scrolls further down the Twitter feed. “All I know is that the amount of investment into our assumed romance frightens me.”

Tam laughs. “All hail Red Robin,” she drones, “he who doesn’t blink an eye at regular dinners with global terrorists or getting into a fist fight with literal aliens and mutants. But regular people taking an interest? Hell no.”

Roy adds, in a dramatic voice, “The unfortunate life of a Wayne. Gunfights and explosions? Easy peasy. Maintaining a personal life without the press blowing everything you do up? Impossible.”

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and brag about the bullet you dodged with Queen. This could have been you, buddy.”

Tim shakes his head at the conversation as he keeps scrolling on his tablet, only to notice a presence right next to him. He looks up to see one of the ninja, holding out a phone on a webpage he wishes he was less familiar with. 

He cautiously accepts the phone with a muttered, “Thanks, Ran.” 

Roy, the only one who hasn’t met any of the ninja before yelps in a way Tim would normally wish he could have recorded for posterity, but he’s a bit too overwhelmed right now. The ninja nods and steps back 

He looks down at the phone.

Only to wish he hadn’t. 

It’s open on a popular fan fiction website, showing the results for the fandom tag ‘Tim’s Tragic Tutorials’. 

“We have a fandom,” he whispers, somehow grabbing the attention of the entire room. He looks up to Steph. “Why do we have a fandom? That’s insane. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Surprisingly, it’s not Steph or Tam, but Roy who has an answer ready, first. 

“Your creepy-ass kid self decided to stalk Robin, that’s what.”

“You bullied Bruce Wayne into recruiting you,” Steph follows up without a beat.

“Ninja,” Tam finishes, pointing at the nearest shadow. 

Tim glares at them, but next to him Jason snickers. “They’ve got a point, Timbo.”

He turns to Jason. “I don’t think you understand,” he says, holding up the phone for him to see. “They are writing smut about us, Jay. You can’t tell me that doesn’t make you the least bit uncomfortable.”

Roy snorts, and starts saying, “Yeah, real uncomfortable. In his p—” 

But Jason slaps his hand over his mouth. 

“Alright, I get it,” he says, “but what’re we gonna do about it?”

“About the fandom, there’s not much you can do,” Tam says, “but I think you’ll want to prepare for questions along this trend for tomorrow.”

Tim and Jason groan in unison, making the other three laugh at their expense again. 

“You two really have yourselves to blame, you know,” Steph says, turning her own tablet over to show another screen shot of the stream. This one from de week before, where Tim is slapping Jason’s grabby hands away from a bowl of cinnamon and sugar coated apple pieces. Just looking at the picture makes Tim’s face heat up. There’s nothing explicit about it, but that in itself is part of the problem. 

It’s _domestic_. And Jason wears a soft smile as he looks at Tim, who’s looking away in the picture. 

And Tim’s not stupid. He knows they’ve been flirting. First during the streams, then it started to bleed over. They speak every day now, if not face-to-face then over the phone or by text. _Something_ is happening, for sure. Neither Steph nor Tam (or Gotham, for that matter), is letting him forget that. 

It would just be nice if they could figure it out for themselves before being jumped about it by a thousand people. 

-

Oddly enough, the press conference isn’t as bad as Jason expects it to be. Sure, there are uncomfortable questions, and it requires him to be in the general proximity of _Brucie_ for an extended period of time, but it could have been much, much worse. 

Luckily Gotham—and the rest of the world, honestly—has seen some crazy shit over the years, so Jason coming back to life isn’t the strangest thing they’ve come to terms with. The fact that he hid being alive for so long is met with a little more scepticism, but even that they can accept. 

The story of Alfred inspiring him to learn to cook, and being interested in cooking even before his memories returned, is met with coos and starry eyes. 

It’s when the topic shifts to Tim and his relationship that he fucks up. 

Or more like, can’t let assumptions make things worse. 

The first question isn’t so bad, and when asked whether they are romantically involved or not, Tim answers clearly and simply. 

“We are not,” he says, “and I’d like to emphasize that even if we were, it’s nobody’s business but our own.” 

The reporter nods along. “You’re right of course, but you can’t blame a person for being curious.”

Tim smiles that Timothy Drake grin. “Of course not, but I think we shouldn’t have to answer the same thing over and over again, so I’m preemptively warning against coming back around to topics we’ve discussed in the past.”

The reporter nods and sits down, and Tim points at a Brunette to stand up next. Jason’s never seen her before, but Tim probably knows who she is. 

“Jennifer Riordan from Gotham Daily,” she introduces herself, “now, you just said you wish to keep at least some of your private life just that, but the rumors _have_ brought a related question to light.”

Tim’s professional smile fades a bit, and Jason tenses up at the sight. 

“While you’ve addressed that you aren’t in a relationship with mister Todd, most men when asked if they’re in a relationship with a man tend to deny being gay. But you haven’t made any statements on that topic. Why?”

For a fraction of a second, Tim’s face goes completely blank, before shifting into something amused. “I mean, I could go on a tirade about how no person anywhere should feel the need to defend their sexual orientation,” he says, “and I do believe that. But in the end it’s mostly because I was taught as a child it’s wrong to lie.”

Jason very nearly doesn’t manage to keep a straight face. Tim? The absolute king of liars who manages to successfully lie to Bruce on a semi-regular basis, saying on television it’s _wrong?_

How’s he supposed to not laugh at that?

There are a few follow up questions for Tim, and Jason finds himself fighting the urge to zone out. 

He’s rudely wrestled back into the present when someone addresses him directly. 

“Jason,” Vicky Vale of all people says, “even before you properly reintroduced yourself to the public, these speculations about you and Tim were gaining quite some traction. Isn’t it weird to be linked to your brother in such a way?”

Later, he’ll say he answered the way he does because he was zoning out. That he didn’t think his answer through. Fact is, he just _really_ can’t stand the idea of people thinking of whatever Tim and he may or may not be building towards as wrong because a piece of paper says they’re brothers. 

“First things first,” he says, looking Vale dead in the eye. “Tim and I are not, never were, and never will be, brothers.”

Vale starts to answer, but he cuts her off. 

“No. I don’t care what some piece of paper says. By the time Tim came to Bruce I was dead and cold in the ground, and I never moved back into the manor after I came back, and by then, Tim was emancipated and everything.” 

In his defense, Tim is the one who makes it worse. “Gee, Jay. Way to make someone feel like you don’t want to be their brother.”

Jason turns to look at Tim incredulously. “Well, I don’t,” he says, and then the real kicker. “Besides, we don’t need that to care.” 

He would be reveling in just how red Tim’s face gets if he didn’t remember in that exact moment where he is. 

-

The next three weeks are a nightmare and a dream in one. 

A nightmare because _no one_ will leave well enough alone, and Tim’s interrogated wherever he goes. The worst part is that people believed him when he said there is no relationship. So now the whole of Gotham seems to feel the need to play cupid. 

They don’t. They _really_ don’t. 

It’s a dream because he and Jason seem to have both come to terms with this weird courtship thing they’re doing, and he finally finds himself able to fully enjoy the experience. 

He’s completely relaxed as he and Jason stand in front of the camera in his kitchen.

Jason is opening the show as usual, also completely at ease, if maybe a bit hyper about something. 

“So, tonight is a bit special,” he says, “as we’re finally getting to the birthday cake. I was going to ask Tam what she wanted, but then we decided we wanted her to be surprised. Which is why she’s banned from watching tonight.”

“Tam’s birthday is tomorrow,” Tim jumps in, “so this should have been the final episode, but it’s been so much of a success, that we kind of want to keep going.” 

“Timmy also just really enjoys baking with me,” Jason says with a wink.

He scoffs. “As if you don’t enjoy this as well.”

“True.”

“Anyway,” Tim turns back to the camera. “We’ve decided to keep going for the indeterminate future, and we’re looking into expanding the concept a bit.” 

“Yes,” Jason says, “as this was such a success with Tim, we’ve decided to also pull in our other family members who have proven to be a hazard in the kitchen. We’re also working on getting the elusive Alfred here to truly show us how it’s done.”

“We’re still open to suggestions, so keep submitting any ideas you have to **@Tim’sTragicTutorials** , and we’ll keep picking things at random.”

“Now, tonight, we’re once again taking donations. This time the recipient will be Saint John’s Middle School in the Bowery, which is hoping to build some home ec classrooms so they can start offering some courses on that in the future.” 

“The button to donate should be in the same spot as it has been the last four shows, but just in case, it should be around here.” Tim points towards where he knows the button to be. 

“Now that we’ve got all the announcements out of the way, let’s get started.” Jason turns to him and hands him the sheet. “So, one thing you should know, is that I let Tim choose the main theme of the cake, but he hasn’t seen the recipe yet.”

Tim takes the recipe sheets—plural—and looks them over. 

“This feels like a bigger step up than before,” he notes. 

“Of course it is,” Jason says, “this is the one that counts, after all.”

Tim takes a while to go through the entire thing before looking straight at the camera. “Fair warning, this looks like it’s gonna take a bit.”

And it does. 

For the most part it’s nothing he hasn’t done before in the last two months, but there are a lot of components to the cake he’s making. 

Baking the three chocolate cakes is pretty standard by now. He makes the buttercream (made with Baileys and nutmeg), the white chocolate ganache (also with Baileys), the edible gold paint, and the chocolate lettering while they are baking and cooling down. 

It’s when he’s assembling the cake that things start to go haywire. 

“Jay, I swear to all that is holy, stop trying to steal the buttercream or I can’t be held responsible for what happens.”

Jason’s grin widens, obviously taking the warning like a challenge, like Tim should have known he would. 

“But it’s so good, Timmy,” he sing-songs, “I’m pretty sure someone must have taught you how to be a good boy and share.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at him but continues spreading a thin layer of buttercream on top of the second highest cake, before piling the last cake on top. “Sure, I also learned that stealing is bad. A lesson you obviously missed.” 

He reaches to grab the spatula he’s been using, only to find it missing. He looks up at Jason to find him holding the spatula up and grinning. 

“Sure,” he says, “but I’m so very very good at it.” Then he licks the spatula before holding it back out to Tim.

He wrinkles his nose. “That’s nasty.”

Jason puts his free hand over his heart and gasps in mock offense. “Are you saying my spit is nasty?” 

“Yes.”

The reason he doesn’t see the spatula coming for his face is because he’s turned back to his counter, digging through his drawers for another one. 

There’s no missing the cold, slightly sticky feeling of buttercream being smeared across your cheek, though. 

It all escalates from there. Tim confiscates the spatula, only to use a tea spoon to catapult a glob of buttercream in Jason’s hair, who retaliates by flinging a handful of cocoa powder in Tim’s direction. It only ends when Jason manages to smear dark chocolate on his nose, and he upturns the bowl that used to contain the cake batter on his head. 

The climbing maneuver he uses to do that is reminiscent of what he did during that first episode, and Jason stares dumbly for a few seconds before smirking. “If you keep climbing me like that, can you blame people for thinking we’re a thing?” he asks. 

Tim scoffs. “Says the guy trying to bake me like a cake. I’m not letting you eat me, just so you know.”

They mock glare at each other for a few more seconds before simultaneously bursting out in laughter. 

Jason recovers slightly faster than him, looking around at the mess they’ve made. “At least none of the ammunition ended up in the buttercream.”

Tim looks over and sees that he’s right, which is lucky. “Let’s clean up a bit before we continue.” He turns to the camera. “Sorry about this guys, we’ll be back in a bit.”

Tim heads over to his bedroom to wash up in the master bathroom, while Jason heads over to the guest bedroom. He quickly washes off with a washcloth and changes his shirt. Not a lot got into his hair, aside from chocolate powder and edible gold dust, so besides ruffling it a bit, Tim leaves that be. 

When he comes back, he hears the shower in the guest bathroom running, so he turns to the camera. “As it seems Jay needs longer to wash off, I’m gonna go ahead and declare myself winner of the foodfight.” 

By the time Jason comes out of the guest bedroom with wet hair and clean clothes, Tim is done frosting the cake and putting it in the fridge to firm up. After that, they need to wait for twenty minutes, so they take the tablet that is now reserved for this out and take turns answering questions from the audience. 

Luckily their audience has stopped pestering them about getting together. Well… mostly stopped anyway. 

Today they’re being deceptively good. Tim scrolls through the chat looking for something good to ask. “Oh here’s one,” he says, “ **Chillidawg95** wants to know what dish you make that you’re most proud of.”

Jason hums, his hand rising to his chin and rubbing it as he thinks. “I make a pretty good risotto,” he says, “but I think my red curry is probably my favorite.” 

“Your curry is pretty good,” Tim says, “I liked the ramen you made from scratch a while ago.”

Jason smiles. “Thanks.” Then, holds his hand out for the tablet, which Tim yields easily. 

He scrolls through the chat, eyes lighting up in amusement at something he sees, but not picking anything right away. 

Tim waits patiently until Jason frowns at the screen, looks up at Tim, and is suddenly right in his space the next second, wiping something from his cheek with a wet cloth. 

“Uhm, Jay?” he asks, feeling his face heat up. 

The only redemption is that Jason goes just as red when he seems to realise what he’s doing. 

-

> **Spoiler Alert** : Hey, Jay? Did you notice there’s still a bit of buttercream on Tim’s cheek? is what the question in the chat says which makes Jason look back up at Tim. 

He hadn’t noticed it before, but now he sees that indeed there’s still a smudge on Tim’s cheek. 

He’s wet a cloth and stepped into Tim’s space before he’s made the conscious decision to clean it up for him. 

Tim softly saying his name makes him realise what he’s doing and he finds himself stuck in place, his face heating up, his hand holding the wet cloth to Tim’s skin and their eyes glued to each other. 

It’s not until the timer Tim set for how long the cake needs to be in the fridge beeps that they jump apart. Tim rushing to the fridge to take the cake out, Jason picking up the tablet to put away. 

Not before he sees just how much the chat has exploded, though. 

> **Lillinette#4334** : If this was a romance novel, such as ‘Shooting for the Heart’ by Dott Peters, these two would kiss.
> 
> **waynexbat** : YES! KISS!
> 
> **redrobinflower** : jfc, Kiss already, jeez
> 
> **LilyWhite_FlowerKnigh** t: This one agrees with **@LLillinette#4334**
> 
> **icekream_and_cake** : Damn, talk about slow burn.
> 
> **plumstagram** : KIIIISSSSSS <3<3<3
> 
> **waynexbat** :Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!!
> 
> **icekream_and_cake** :KIIIISSSSSS 
> 
> **shmoo92** : :kissing: 
> 
> **waynexbat** :Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!!
> 
> **plumstagram** :KIIIISSSSSS <3<3<3
> 
> **StarSityRules** :kiiiiiissssssss
> 
> **plumstagram:KIIIISSSSSS <3<3<3**
> 
> **Lillinette#4334** : It would be plot-appropriate for these two to commence smooching.
> 
> **redrobinflower2** : Honestly, **@icekream_and_cake** , the slowest of slow burns. 
> 
> **icekream_and_cake** : I know, right? Honestly.
> 
> **Mod Queen Steph** : Feel my pain, you phlegms. 
> 
> **redrobinflower2** : Oh shit, you too?
> 
> **LilyWhite_FlowerKnight** : This one believes this is what fiction would call a “slow burn”
> 
> **Mod Queen Steph** : Of course… I’m on the front row seat…. or, well…. I’m the next room over. But you get the point!
> 
> **LilyWhite_FlowerKnight** : As **@icekream_and_cake** said.
> 
> **icekream_and_cake** : Jesus, I feel sorry for you. 
> 
> **shmoo92** : All hail our Mod queen!!
> 
> **icekream_and_cake** : HAIL!
> 
> **redrobinflower** : HAIL TO THE QUEEN!
> 
> **Waynexbat** : HAIL!
> 
> **redrobinflower** : But seriously, though. This is a slower burn than Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.

“You take that back, Redrobinflower,” Jason says, glaring at the screen. 

> **NightwingingIt** : Yeah… they really should just kiss. 
> 
> **plumstagram** : Wait. Are we working off the assumption they are hiding they are already in a relationship, or that this would be their first kiss. Because I honestly don’t know how to feel about peer pressuring them into having their first kiss on live stream. 

Jason scrolls past more users chanting for kisses.

> **waynexbat** : KISS! KISS! KISS!!!
> 
> **StarSityRules** : kiiiiiissssssss
> 
> **plumstagram** : KIIIISSSSSS <3<3<3
> 
> **StarSityRules** : kiiiiiissses
> 
> **NightwingingIt** sent a gif: [KISS DAMNIT]
> 
> **shampoo_and_cake** : Oof. point taken, **@plumstagram** , redacting it to “Kiss! But only if you are both consenting and don’t just do it because we tell you to!” seems a bit of a hassle, though.
> 
> **Mod Queen Steph** : isn’t the second part of that statement implied, though? Also, they could use a bit of peer pressure, they need it :expressionless:

Jason rolls his eyes at the screen, before turning to the camera and mouthing ‘ _stop it’_ while Tim isn’t looking, and putting the tablet away. 

He watches as Tim carefully pours the white chocolate ganache on top of the cake, easing it to the sides to let it drip. He’s really getting very good at this stuff. It helps that they all have steady hands, he supposes. 

As they wait for the drip to settle, Tim moves the leftover Buttercream to a piping bag. He also fills two hollowed out chocolate birds with baileys, setting them aside for later. 

Painting the ganache drip with the gold paint almost ends in another food fight, but Jason manages to avoid the brush Tim stabs at him when he pokes him in his side to make him mess up. 

Tim eventually finishes the cake, spinning it around to show the camera the front. “I think that should be it,” he says, looking over at Jason, who walks over to the fridge where he stored the cake he made the night before. 

He takes out the box, and lifts the top to show a nearly identical cake, the only noticeable difference being the handwriting of the chocolate lettering spelling out ‘Happy Birthday’.

“Well done, Tim,” he says, “you did very well.”

Tim grins up at him, and then back at the camera. “Thanks to everyone who went through this adventure with us, we’ve appreciated all the support, no matter how much like an overzealous Georgian-era mother some of you behaved.” 

Jason chokes on a laugh. Did he just? “Did you just insult our entire viewership using an Jane Austen reference?”

Tim turns to him. “Maybe.”

God, he loves him.

Thankfully, he manages to keep that thought firmly in his head. 

“Anyway,” Tim continues as Jason recovers from that thought. “As usual, this recipe will also be posted on the twitch, so look for it on **@Tim’sTragicTutorials** , where it can be found under the name…” He looks over at Jason who only then realises he usually jumps in at this point.

“Er…” he stalls, “it doesn’t actually have a name yet.”

“Yet?” 

“I kinda made this recipe myself?”

Tim’s face goes slack. “You _made_ it?”

“Yes?”

“Why?”

“Because I tried looking up a Baileys cake, and nothing seemed to fit something you and Tam would like,” Jason explains. “Because some of them use fondant, and you said Tam dislikes that, and there was this vegan one, that _looked_ okay, but there was almond milk in that one, and you don’t like that. And th—” 

Turns out it’s really difficult to explain your life choices when someone else's lips are pressed to yours. Jason stiffens up for a fraction of a second before melting into the kiss. 

Twenty seconds later there’s a yell from the room where Steph does her modding. 

“Fucking finally!!”

-

“I still can’t believe that when I told you to get out of your comfort zone, you went and became an internet sensation _and_ got yourself a boyfriend,” Tam complains between bites of her birthday cake. “This is not what I meant, Timothy.”

On the coffee table of Tim’s office lies a copy of the Gotham Gazette, the front cover filled with a picture of Tim pulling Jason down into a kiss. His face goes red whenever he sees it, but Tam told him there would be dire consequences if he moves it while she’s eating a piece of her cake. 

“This is _really_ friggin’ good, though,” Tam sighs, “I guess I’ll have to forgive you for your intolerable competence.” 

Tim laughs. “You do that, Tam, you do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Should anyone be interested in the things Tim is baking.  
> Ep 1: 3 ingredient shortbread cookies: https://www.biggerbolderbaking.com/3-ingredient-shortbread-cookies/
> 
> Ep 5: white chocolate - matcha cupcakes with white chocolate buttercream: There were two different recipes I combined for this, since the original was with matcha flavored buttercream. cupcakes(Sorry, it’s in Dutch): https://www.foodiesmagazine.nl/recepten/matcha-cupcakes/ Buttercream: https://charlotteslivelykitchen.com/white-chocolate-buttercream/ 
> 
> Ep 8: Baileys infused chocolate cake: https://www.her.ie/food/recipe-baileys-infused-chocolate-cake-perfect-christmas-treat-gals-493157
> 
> All credit goes to the respective writers of the recipes.


End file.
